Unremarkable
by southoffebruary
Summary: -Mulder/Scully- She didn’t want to know whether he wanted to fight for her – for them – or if he wanted to give up like she was.


**Title:** Unremarkable  
**Author:** southoffebruary  
**Characters:** Mulder/Scully  
**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Summary:** She didn't want to know whether he wanted to fight for her – for them – or if he wanted to give up like she was.  
**Notes:** post-The Truth. If you don't know what happened in the end of that, you might be confused. Thanks to Grace, Tracy and Whitney for their excellent beta skills.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Don't sue, ect, ect.

xXxXx

She watched the sun rise that morning.

It had become habit for her these days, when things were playing on her mind; sleep was something she rarely got. So rather than lying in bed tossing and turning, she would get up, make herself some coffee, and attempt to let the warm glow of the morning wash her thoughts away.

But today was different; today the sun was rising on her tenth new life – and not just hers, but the man who she had taken on this life with – and the reality of that was hitting her harder than it ever had before.

They had moved to another quiet farming district – the fourth in as many months. She wasn't sure which state they were in because they'd crossed three borders in the last week. She had stopped paying attention to road signs halfway though their journey; it didn't really matter where they were as they probably wouldn't be there for long anyway.

Two evenings ago they had arrived in the small community. He always made sure it was the dead of night when they moved into their new accommodation, even though she thought that only drew more attention to them. Their house was yet another small, one-bedroom dwelling on the outskirts of civilization – it was like these ramshackle places were built with them specifically in mind. They'd quietly made their way about the township, acting as if they had been there their whole lives. They'd searched for work, and only introduced themselves when necessary. It had become routine for them, like they weren't hiding any big secret and they were really the people they were portraying.

She was struggling to remember her name this time; she usually practiced it before they embarked on a new town. But these days she was growing weary about learning a new name, a new persona for herself – there had been so many for her in the last few months and lately they'd all become jumbled together. And with her new name came a new hairdo. She hated this one. It wasn't enough that she had to lose her name, she also had to lose her sense of self. She had shoulder length brown this time; she had dyed it herself in the last motel. Before that it was blonde.

She was supposed to start work as waitress today. It wasn't the worst job she'd had thus far, but she knew she deserved better. She'd been a kitchen hand, cleaner, receptionist, sales clerk and countless other things that all blurred into one of late. Her real profession - her medical degree - was merely a fading memory these days. She wasn't even sure if she remembered what connected to the knee bone anymore.

This was her life now, and she had stepped into it willingly – thought perhaps blindly – three years ago. Some days she wondered if she'd done the right thing – she hadn't realized the enormity of what she was getting herself into. Perhaps she thought it would be different.

Something inside her had once hoped their new beginning would involve one name change, one make-over and that perhaps a more mundane life might satisfy him for a while.

It hadn't.

The next bump in the night was always waiting around the corner for them and he eagerly chased it with her in tow. She had been used to that way of life for many years. She'd accepted it – though somewhat begrudgingly – because at least it was something that resembled their former selves.

What she hadn't expected though, what had blindsided her the first time it had happened, was packing her bags in the middle of the night because a random stranger asked them if they'd met before. It had happened five times now – each time he was sure they had been discovered and wanted them to move on.

Some days she asked herself if had been worth it: leaving behind her family, her career, her life, to live as a fugitive. She wasn't sure anymore. Two years ago she would have said 'yes' without a moment's hesitation. She'd had no doubt about placing her faith in the hands of the man who made her life complete. The two of them being together was the only thing she could think of at the time.

It had been fine at first, living in motels hadn't been ideal, but at the time she hadn't cared because they'd been together. She had been without him for so long that all she cared about was having him hold her in his arms, feeling his breath in her hair. Even a tent pitched in the middle of the desert would've been fine back then.

Now though, there were too many miles – and too many motels – behind them. All she could see was the same long road stretching ahead of them. After all these years, she still found herself desperately wanting to stop the damn car and live a normal life. Even if that life had to be as Laura, the cashier at Wal-Mart or as Betty, the kitchen hand at a small grubby diner. She would do it, as long as her feet were firmly planted on the ground, in one town, not the dozen or so that her feet had merely skidded through in the last three years.

Sometimes she wondered where she would be if she had let her head make her decision that night. What if she had listened to that small voice who had screamed at her, who had asked her what the hell she was doing. That voice which was completely drowned out by her happiness and sheer terror of the events unfolding before her.

Her choice - this life - it had been chosen by her heart, by her unconditional love for the man who lay snoring in the bedroom of their pokey little house.

And it wasn't enough for her anymore.

She still loved him - she would always love him - that would never change, but she couldn't love her life any longer. The real her was fading into oblivion, fading behind a bunch of women who didn't exist, behind fake ID's with pictures of herself that she barely recognized. He on the other hand, seemed to thrive on becoming a new person – a new character – with each new town. He loved slinging his arm around her shoulders and declaring to whoever asked that she was his wife.

In reality, they weren't married, even though he had asked her more than once. Each time she had brushed it off with a simple 'no,' that the time wasn't right. The last time, just a month ago, she had refused him with a quickness that surprised even her. He had tried to hide his hurt and confusion, so she made a point asking him - a little too bitterly - what names he actually thought they would put on the marriage certificate. Lois and Clark? Fred and Wilma? Rob and Laura?

He had quietly nodded at her and said he understood. Their real names on anything would raise alarms that neither of them wanted. She also explained that, for her, anything short of who they really were wasn't a real marriage. That, of course, was a lie, and she wasn't sure she believed her words when they left her mouth – she was pretty sure he didn't either. Their relationship was far from traditional and a traditional marriage didn't really matter to her, not anymore. But even when he argued that they didn't need the piece of paper and offered her the idea of a small unofficial ceremony, something just for them, she still said no.

She wondered now, if she had said no because subconsciously she knew this day was coming. Was it inevitable that she was going to leave him? After twelve years together, as partners, friends, and lovers, she wouldn't have expected it. But she also didn't expect to be moving from state to state whenever his paranoia struck.

She was tired of running, tired of changing her name, her hair. She was tired of always looking over her shoulder, living on a razors edge, always expecting someone to finally catch them. She couldn't live like that any longer. She needed a break, needed time to find herself again. This was the only way she could think of doing so.

She wasn't sure if he would just forgive her for slipping away, for not telling him about her unhappiness. But if she stayed, she wasn't sure she could confront him. She knew that he would beg her to stay; he would promise her that they would stop and make this life their last. However she knew they would be promises he couldn't keep. She didn't want to wake up one day and completely resent him because of it. Or maybe he would simply let her go, his guilt would take over any notions of trying to salvage their relationship and he would let her leave.

She didn't want to know whether he wanted to fight for her – for them – or if he wanted to give up like she was. The knowledge either way would make her leaving even more unbearable.

She let out a small sigh as she emptied the rest of her coffee in the sink and swallowed back the tears that threatened to surface. She stuck her simple note to the fridge – the one place he was sure to see it. She grabbed her car keys and took one last look around their unremarkable little house and nodded to herself – she was doing the right thing, even if it didn't feel like it now.

When she grabbed her suitcase she didn't hear the soft footsteps padding down the hall. As her hand grasped the front door knob and she opened it to greet the morning sun, a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Scully?"


End file.
